


From Arms To Charms

by SweetScone



Category: Shin Megami Tensei Series, 真女神転生IV FINAL | Shin Megami Tensei IV: Apocalypse
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Biting, F/M, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possible Spoilers, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spoilers, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetScone/pseuds/SweetScone
Summary: The man was driving you crazy; turns out your frustration wasn't properly evacuated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for possible spoilers if you haven't played the game.
> 
> I'm drowning in the game ever since its release. I found myself warming up to Gaston despite downright hating him in the beginning -I guess that's the mark of good character development. In any case, I needed to write this to vent!

You’d said it to taunt him:

 _Sir Gaston_.

With a drawl on the first syllable, a hiss to his name, your tone just a tad lower than you intended. Your eyes smoldered with mischief, creased like the ones of a seductive Lilith, yet with intentions farthest from one. The asshat samurai glowered as he usually did, a deep growl quaking in his ribcage. The Mikado man had been nothing but a pest since he joined your group: constantly bickering, sizing you and your comrades up for judgment at your every move. What he had least expected, however, was to find equal to the sharpness of his tongue, perhaps even more so than his.

To Nozomi’s desperation, the both of you often riled the other into a vicious bout, insults fusing in the dark Tokyo air as you moved between bunkers, your comrades more akin to babysitters than actual hunters in such moments. Despite your very urgent desire to punch the insolent man in the face, though, you had yet to act upon your craving and this, ever since your first meeting with the magnificent captain asshole. The itch had grown in volume the more you completed missions together –that first time you had taken down Shesha had been nothing but oil on the already blazing fire. The samurai had exploded with such impudence upon being deprived the finishing blow that you almost regretted not letting him advance weaponless in the fire serpent’s mouth to retrieve his precious spear.

When his own forked tongue had belittled Asahi, however, that had been the gust to set the gas alight. Yet you had watched with stilled breath Hallelujah stealing your punch, your excitement tarnished despite the jubilation flaring in your chest in seeing Gaston’s dejected mug.

Events, however, unfurled from there, leaving little to no time to inside feuds in your gang. Energy was spent on defeating the Divine Powers while fending off any and all zealous opponents from the Merkabah and Lucifer factions. That had not stopped you however, from teasing the man to near murderous infuriation.

He had just received the news –the Crusaders were to be disbanded. Something that was far from unpleasant to his former colleagues, judging by the way they rejected him in the bar. Your heart sped up at the sight, the organ seemingly levitating heavily in your chest under the dimmed lights and frequent drum of the bass. You waited in anticipation to see this wretched hunk of a man being defeated as he would turn around –you had never known you were such a sadist before encountering him. Never had you reveled in suffering, be it delivered upon innocents or criminals –but that Gaston had strung too many of the wrong threads in your persona.

Still, his expression held nothing of the awe-blowing, crestfallen ego you had expected. His brow was furrowed upon his chiseled features, shadows cast upon the usually fiery pit of his eyes. Your heart stalled against your ribcage –why was it that pity was now eclipsing your joy? You saw your comrades steer to him, Gaston shrugging them off without a word as he pushed past you, leaving you to stare blankly at the screens blinking over the bar.

There was no way you let would this end this way after all he had made you endure.

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists before sprinting out of the bar, leaving the suffocating atmosphere as you tailed behind the samurai. With certain relief, you caught him lunging towards the rooms, and you were able to catch up to him just at the end of the corridor leading to them.

“Gaston.”

You feared your voice would betray the wavering feelings in your stomach, but his name came out as acidic as it always did when you called out to him. He halted in his tracks, the corner of his white garb fluttering against his hip from the interrupted momentum. He didn’t even bother fully turning around, his head simply tilting to peer at you over his shoulder –the flash of weakness you had earlier detected was nowhere to be seen, his glare back to its usual guarded state. He seemed to be awaiting more from you, if the fact he remained motionless from his spot was anything to go by. With wide, furious strides you made your way to him, hands on your hips as you marched before him.

“Oh… Excuse me.”

You cleared your throat, your eyes filling with fresh impishness as you blinked once.

“ _Sir Gaston._ ”

The mocking nickname was delivered only for him, your voice no higher than a whisper as you stepped just slightly closer. Heat built up between the two of you, something you mistook for wrath, just as his eyes seemed to convey. His lightless pupils zoomed in on you, boring holes of burning anger that had you shiver under your armor. This was more like it.

“What is it now? Do not speak to me.”

His own voice was shushed, a low, sultry tone that still let appear his disenchantment clearly, his fuming animosity palpable under his breath. But the samurai was again contradicting himself: he made no motion to swipe passed you. Not until you next spoke.

“Are you going to leave us just like that? Tail between your legs? Disappointing for a samurai, don’t you think?”

You had to bite down on your tongue to prevent a Cheshire grin from blooming on your face. At this he _tsk’ed_ and pushed beside you, shoulder slamming you out of the way as he made for his temporary room.

“I obey my orders. This was always a fleeting arrangement.”

You followed him as you hummed approvingly.

“So I’m glad it was. Believe me when I say even a Nue burger couldn’t make me happier”, you watched his face twist in disgust at the image and you had to stifle a mocking laugh. _Always so dainty, mister samurai_ , “It’s just…”

You trailed off, observing your nails with faked attention. Gaston’s hand stilled jut over the doorknob of his room. You could almost hear the creaking of his molars as his jaw tightened.

“… It’s rather cowardly of a man who boasts like you do…. Oh, well. You know what they say about men with big spears after all..?”

Your smile was now splitting your face in half.

“They always make up for their own size.”

How you wanted to burst laughing. You had most certainly shut him up for good now –this could be your best parting gift.

As it was, however, you were suddenly the one speechless.

You had been much too absorbed by your self-satisfaction to notice him whirling around to grab you by the wrist to swing you inside his room. He had you pinned on the door in a matter of seconds, air leaving your lungs as your back collided with the surface –or maybe it had to do with the fact that his mouth was latching over yours like an hunger-driven Orthrus onto a piece of flesh.

You fought back weakly in his hold, intertwining arousal and left-over adrenaline numbing your limbs, whimpering softly in the kiss. A single one of his hands held your wrists above your head, his chest pressing against your plump one as he leaned down to ravish your mouth, knee kicking your legs apart to get closer to your warmth. Your lips and chin were a wet mess even before his tongue dared to plunge in your mouth to tangle with yours, his free hand kneading your hip under the fabric of your stealth suit.

Heat burrowed deep in your bones, and even further in your core –you recognized that fiery blaze, the one that had been nourished between the both of you when you fought, albeit it was sensibly different. This would just be another battle, one you would not so easily relinquish. You ceased wiggling in his grasp, opting to bite down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood and a hair-raising groan from his throat. The air between your separated mouths was thicker than the remnant cinders of a spell-stricken demon, and you let your own wilderness take the wheel, pushing Gaston further into the room as you strangled him out of his upper garment. His hands mimicked yours, wrenching you out of your coat after nearly tearing off the zipper, harshly tugging down your tank top to expose your uncovered breasts.

He was now the one leading this frantic dance, flooring you into the mattress as his mouth devoured one of your nipples hungrily, his motions all teeth and tongue against your skin. Your fingers wound in the slicked locks of his hair, jerking his head backwards with savage force while you arched further into his mouth. He suckled hard at your tip as you heaved, hips grinding down violently on your clothed bottom half before he returned your earlier favor, teeth clamping around your sensitive teat.

Gaston didn’t hesitate to allow his saliva to dribble down your chest as he disengaged from your reddened breast, hands continuing their needy quest further down your body. Your belt snapped open and your pants were flung across the room shortly, panties torn in two halves just before two slender fingers rammed deep into your already sopping cunt, your whole body jolting under the painful yet delicious sensation.

“Ah –Shit –You asshole! Do it properly –ahhn!”

His digits pumped in and out viciously, disregarding your words as he kept fucking you sore. Your own body was betraying you under the threshold of pleasure, cunt squirming around his fingers with wet, obnoxious sounds.

“Tch. You dirty slut. Just look how filthy you are around my fingers. _Gross_.”

You were suddenly very empty as he removed the said fingers from your core and brought them to your face, showing you the obvious arousal slicking them.

“Be a dear and clean that up.”

It was more of an order than a request as his fingertips forced their way beyond your lips, knocking your teeth before you choked on your own scent and taste. They applied bone-crushing pressure on your tongue, forcing you to swallow your trickling arousal with heavy gulps.

Gaston was heaving above you, knees between your legs as he watched you with lustful, lidded eyes, chest bare to your own as it rose and fell under his ragged breaths.

“No wonder they call you the Unclean ones. Look at that mess.” His pupils focused on your disheveled frame, roaming your curves shamelessly. His fingers dug deeper in your mouth, snaking at the back of your throat just short of your gag reflex. He leaned above you, pelvis crushing yours while his free hand twisted your breast painfully hard.

“Will you be even dirtier for me?”

His mouth was next to your ear as he murmured those heavy, leaden words, tongue shooting at your lobe as he nibbled on it. You couldn’t allow him to gain the upper hand right now. You bit down on his fingers, taking advantage of his surprise to invert your positions, straddling his hips with your legs on either side. Except you were sure to offer him a generous view of your dripping sex, mounting him in the opposite direction.

You kneeled back towards his face, anchoring his arms onto the mattress with your shins as you lowered yourself to his pants. His buckle soon came undone, as did his lower samurai garb, the items then discarded on the room’s floor. Your hurried motions ceased for a while as your mouth watered –your previous teasing jab definitely held no foundation over him.

His cock stood proud and thick, long and leaking. It curved magnificently towards his abdomen, the reddish head slick and gleaming with appealing juices. You didn’t allow him time to gloat as you went down on him, already engulfing half of his heavy cock into your mouth. Gaston grunted at the sudden and immense warmth overwhelming his sex, and his head fell back on the bed with satisfying softness.

His cock popped out of your mouth noisily, and you spit down on him a generous amount of saliva to wet him up nicely. This time you swallowed the whole of his length down your throat, not caring for the tip grazing the back of it. His musk assaulted your nostrils as his hips jerked almost imperceptibly upwards to meet the bobbing motion of your head, although not subtle enough to go unnoticed.

You bit lightly around the veiny base of his cock in warning, pushing your cunt back on his face until you could feel his breath straining on it.

“Fuckin’ bitch -!”

Your lower half momentarily felt weightless as he pushed your legs off his arms with unrelenting force, hands grappling the tempting flesh of your buttocks as he spread them out fiercely. His abs flexed and his cock bobbed up on your palate as he lifted his shoulders off the bed, mouth latching around your soaked hole with eye-rolling pleasure. His fingers were leaving imprints of crimson upon your flesh as they dug in your asscheeks, and his tongue began fucking your cunt in earnest as you resumed sucking him.

His thumbs parted the petals of your sex, spreading you wide for him, muscle delving deeper against your velvet walls. You were downright moaning and slobbering around him, swallowing inch after inch of his shaft hungrily. Heat encompassed your writhing figures, thin veil of sweat covering your rubbing bodies with derelict friction. You gasped in a mix of surprise and disappointment when you found yourself bouncing off the mattress, Gaston’s cock slapping against your cheek as you fell forward.

“ _Enough play_.”

He hissed the words with grounded effort, eyes dark with want as he seized your ankles to tug you stiflingly close. The feverish haze stilled like a cloudy and quivering precipitate in solution as you stared at each other, the crazed frenzy erupting and expanding as your breath wavered; then he was over you, mouth claiming yours as if it were his birthright, kiss demanding and firm. His arousal nudged at your slickened outer lips, head dipping past your folds and into your warmth. Gaston’s breath washed out of his lungs, pelvis propelling forward as he anchored himself within you.

Rest was an unaffordable luxury in your transient passion, his hips hammering against yours as you arched off the bed from the sheer pleasure, his length sheathed snugly in your twitching tightness. His hands parted your knees to expose your swollen nub, the view of his ramming length pistoning into your core fueling his carnal cravings. Your legs shook in his hold as you attempted to pinpoint your oncoming orgasm, your arms thrown back as you let yourself finally be taken wholly by the indulgent samurai.

Your breath spilled from your chest suddenly as Gaston leaned over you, pressing down to bury his face in the side of your neck. His desperate groans flared your excitement like hot coals, and the grazing of his pelvis against your clit made you clench hard around his girth, numbing pleasure pouring down your veins as the tension snapped in your core, pulling at the remaining threads of your sanity.

“Gaston – _shit_ – I, I’m- _fuck_!”

Your sex was pulsating wildly, walls torn between pulling him in and forcing him out, suctioning him mercilessly. His pace stalled against the resistance, grunts fading to growls as he fought the mind-blowing pressure, as well as the rippling waves of bliss quaking over your body pinned underneath him. He let you ride your orgasm until the tide had quelled, knees sliding under you bum to lever you higher. Just as he was about to set his own pace again, fervent on spilling his own fire inside you, you took the opportunity to reverse the tables, flipping him over with impressive strength despite your exhausted, post-coitus state.

“ _Wha?!_ Damn!”

Gaston cursed as you ground down on him, hips slamming onto his hardness with increased zeal.

Your voice was hoarse and your legs prickled as you willed yourself to ride him, thighs squeezing his muscled sides to allow a faster and harder rhythm, “Well, aren’t you, _ah_ \- the one who looks _dirty_ now?”

Strands of air fell over your face as you grinned maliciously, blood still flowing generously to your lower abdomen. Your smile fell shortly, however, when Gaston’s hands shot to your hips, pinching the skin painfully as he forced you into his own pace despite your leading position. He was now the one to smile widely, face contorted under the throes of pleasure.

“ _Shut up.”_

His hips snapped up as you lowered yourself again, bodies colliding with beastly need as one of his hand craned around the back of your neck to pull your mouth against his. When he was sure your hips weren’t slacking off, his last hand moved from their curves to assault your budding clit fiercely, your voice breaking off in his unrelenting kiss. His fingers twirled around the soaked nub expertly, reeling in your second orgasm faster than you could find a good way to insult him –this time, however, you could tell he was coming closer too.

His hand settled against your jaw as he released your mouth, keeping you close as your breaths intermingled hotly. Your gaze plunged in his unfocused, glazed one as you rutted against one another desperately, seeking heat, chasing release, pursuing something that wasn’t your dark, daily life.

It was in this improvised and grotesque idyll that the both of you came undone together, years of accumulated tension fading in an instant, at the mercy of something unsuspected and yet so obvious.

You remained perched atop him, the both of you catching your breath in a sort of shocked disbelief. There was no animosity as you rose off of him, his length unsheathing from your womanhood slickly as he helped you off. You turned your back to him, seated on the edge of the bed as you sought your discarded pieces of clothes: now that the frustration and passion were spent, the impending silence was akin to the reaper’s scythe under your throat.

Even your usual jabs seemed out of place here –just what could be said now? Nothing that would change the fact that he had to go back to the surface, his own world. You felt Gaston move off the bed, then something soft over your shoulder as he placed a box of tissue over your knees. Truly the gentlemen.

You peeked over your shoulder with certain surprise, finding him avoiding your gaze. He had laid the sheet of his bed over your shoulders.

“You can stay here for tonight.”

He cleared his throat noisily when you simply stared at him in disbelief.

“Just… The underground’s filled with hunters, because of the transmission. Your clothes…”

He spared a look to the torn pieces of your underwear, and you mimicked him. Exiting the room in this disheveled state would only bring suspicions about. You hugged your frame and buried your mouth in the softness of the sheet, smiling faintly to yourself. You gingerly lay on your side, turning to him as you rolled around in the cover, patting the empty space beside you.

“Are samurais even aloud to indulge in such… _filthy_ rituals?”

The usual, mocking mirth was back in your voice, and Gaston scoffed as he lay down with you under the sheet, tugging you into the warm embrace of his arms.

“ _Shut up…_ ”

Eyes closed and thoughts drifting amiss, his words were only a whisper in the enclosing shroud of sleep.

It was the first night in a while that you felt warm as you slept.

…

Morning came abruptly, and along with it the crippling blows of reality.

Your spot radiated with heat; his was cold. Your clothes still lay messily on the floor; his was missing.

_That fucking jerk._

Of course he wouldn’t have the guts to say goodbye. Your throat tightened painfully and your eyes prickled: you hated how feelings could veer a hundred-and-eighty degrees in such a short amount of time. You got up groggily and picked up your salvageable clothes, putting them on. You’d go directly to your room to retrieve a pair of fresh underwear.

Just as you got out of your quarters, body and mind refreshed, you stumbled upon the rest of the gang. Nozomi’s eyes lit up at your sight, and she motioned you closer.

“Hey! Fujiwara’s got a new mission for us. An important one at that.”

You suddenly realized how weird everyone’s get up was: Asahi and Toki were wearing an awful lot of makeup, all and each sporting Mikado garb along with those large gauntlets.

“Just what..?”

She didn’t bother answering your question, pushing a plastic bag in your arms.  

“Everything’s there for you, too. Since you decided to sleep late today, we had to meet him without you. We’ll depart once you get changed.”

“Depart? Where?”

She smiled softly, “Why, to Mikado of course, silly.”

Your jaw nearly dropped down. Despite everything that was going on, this quest was growing more and more unexpected. You looked down to the samurai garb nestled within the contents of the bag handed to you.

You needn’t think twice about this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I was maybe considering writing more for this game, so I'd like to know if there are fellow fans in the vicinity! Tell me what you think. Currently heavily tempted to write Dagda, Krishna and perhaps Odin. Maybe even Flynn (I'm somewhat weirded out by the idea, though, since I had been so engrossed in the character in SMT4 that I would consider it self-ception. Probably just ovethinking it.)


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